Entry - MAG Poetry Prize 2010

A Tale Of Time

by Chris Fordham

Slowly descending the spiral staircase,
you burn your way past a mark.
One, two, three, still further to travel yet.
At six you shall cease to be.

You are the centre of all attention,
eyes drawn to your natural glow
and your ageless embrace of passing time;
captivating and trapping.

Men are in awe of this basic power;
following your light, your guide,
to make the world carry on with some flow,
only to burn out, un-marked.

Those faceless new-age creations can't match
the same energy, beauty
flickering at your luminous welcome.
It is much colder, lifeless.

Added: 28.04.2010